


Twin Hatred

by goldenslumber



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenslumber/pseuds/goldenslumber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never saw it coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twin Hatred

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short, angsty fic. Thank you for reading.

_Jaime!_  
  
He was fighting desperately in the very think of the battle. One handed, and weakening. Men in varying colors and loyalties and armor flashed at him from every side, suffocated him in their midst. Covered in sweat and grime and blood, hearing the shouts and grunts and cries of those crowded about him, feeling their thrusts and hopelessness and dying, still, Jaime heard Brienne's voice as clear as an intimate whisper breathed at the shell of his ear.   
  
 _“Jaime!”_  
  
Jaime spun, expecting her to be behind him, where she had been minutes ago. They were each other's back up in fights, he watched her from behind and she was to do the same. It stunned him, that she wasn't there.  
  
 _“Jaime!”_  
  
There was a horrible fright in her voice, that froze his blood and drove him to the left, slashing and hacking.  _Had he left her or did she drift from him?_  The question didn't seem to matter, as he danced among the figures of knights and swayed to catch any glimpse of her; stiff straw-colored hair matted in sweat, broad homely face, wide hands clutched around Oathkeeper's hilt. But there was nothing, he could not see her, find her, there was only her voice, straggled and far away, and _desperate_.  
  
 _Jaime!_  
  
He looked up, and never saw the arrow that plunged directly into his eye, killing him instantly.  
  


* * *

  
  
Brienne moaned, and nearly doubled over in the intensity of her sorrow.  _He'd not heard her._  From where she stood, parring off attackers atop a boulder some forty feet away –  _too far, who had she gotten so far away?_  – she'd seen the archers. She watched the one load his bow and draw and squint at the Kingslayer. She'd shouted and called and nearly threw herself into a sword trying to force her way back to Jaime. And he'd not heard the warning in her voice, he'd thought her in trouble, not himself.  
  
And when the battle was over and she fell to her knees beside the body, her fingers graced the side of his jaw, the trickling streams of crimson falling around his eye socket and soaking into golden hair. Fitting, the hair and blood, Lannister in true.  
  
All she could think was that he'd hated archers.  
  
 _That is something they have in common, now._


End file.
